


The Courtship of Billy Hargrove

by darkandstormyslash



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Confusion, Groping, Hand Jobs, M/M, Non-Consensual Groping, Post Season 2, Smoking, Underage Drinking, bad attempts at flirtation, both of these boys are dumb as rocks, distinct lack of communication, suggestive talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:14:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24321124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkandstormyslash/pseuds/darkandstormyslash
Summary: How do Billy Hargrove and Steve Harrington even get together? Badly. With much confusion.(This is a kind of prelude to Summer of Lust '85)
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 14
Kudos: 54





	1. Attempt the First

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnastasiaZ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnastasiaZ/gifts).



There’s a graduation ceremony, of course. Even the most backwards little empty town in the middle of Indiana knows to do  _ something  _ when the kids leave school. Steve spends the night before on his own in the house, getting as drunk as he can on whatever he can find. His dad’s already made the ultimatum about work and Steve knows this is probably the only graduation he’s ever going to have in his life.

That’s a thought that gets him through most of a bottle of Bourbon.

The next day the sun is bright and shining. Steve is in neither the mood nor the state to be sat in uncomfortable cheap robes squinting up at some girl making a tearful heartfelt speech about how much she’s going to miss everyone while the principle very slowly calls out names. His parents are there, and even take a picture, but his father hurries off the moment the names have finished calling. Gratefully, Steve staggers out of the gymnasium, raising his hand to cover his face as he slopes past Byers on the camera. He finds a deserted classroom and pats his pockets for a cigarette, groaning as he realises he doesn’t have any. Rummaging through the teacher’s desk yields a battered half-empty packet and Steve gives a relieved grin. It’s the best thing that’s happened so far today.

“What you got there, Harrington?” a voice drawls from the door.

Shit. Billy Hargrove. Last seen many months ago, two inches away from Steve’s face, screaming obscenities while heavy fists pummeled him into the Byers kitchen floor. Steve flinches a little, turning with one drooping cigarette in his mouth and mumbling, “You better have a fucking lighter.”

Miraculously, Billy leans forward with a lighter, striking it under the cigarette. “You look like shit.”

“Feel like shit.” The cigarette smoke is ridiculously good and Steve takes a deep inhale, his eyes focusing blearily on the boy in front of him. It’s probably the smartest he’s ever seen Hargrove. The guy is even wearing a tie, albeit tied about halfway down his chest in a wonky knot. “Why are you here?”

“Same reason you are, for a hangover smoke.” Billy reaches past him to steal the teachers cigarette packet, pulling one out and lighting up. He seems unaccountably nervous. “Although by the looks of it, you had a rougher night than I did.”

“Most of a bottle of Jim Beam.” Steve drawls. This is the longest conversation they’ve had since Billy put Steve into the emergency room. If he feels sick, he decides, he is going to aim it at Billy Hargrove’s badly-polished smart shoes. 

“Rookie error. Should’ve stuck to beer.” Billy fiddles with the cigarette in his hand, dropping ash on the floor as he glances out the door. “Listen, man, I’m sorry about last year, y’know?”

Steve blinks, raising his eyes to look at Billy’s face. It’s uncharacteristically clean, and even his hair looks different. Brushed back and flattened down in a sort of comedic mockery of smartness. His collar is turned up against the side of his neck. The dumb graduation robes hang badly over his ill-fitting suit, and Steve can see the rental label sticking out the back. “What the hell is the point of that, man? Does it matter?”

The world feels more familiar as Billy’s face twists into something angry. “Whatever. I tried, okay? It was a bit of a mad time, you know?”

“Yeah.  _ I _ know.” Steve snaps back. “Is there a reason you’re here to make my shitty day even shitter?”

“Your dad doesn’t look like how I imagined.” Billy announces out of nowhere. Steve wonders whether he could maybe put his cigarette out on Billy’s face, and what would happen if he did. “I mean he’s a rich smooth fucker, but I kinda thought … I dunno.”

Steve doesn’t know either. But he does feel slightly more sick.

“Carol said you aren’t going to college.”

Suddenly, Steve decides he doesn’t want to be here. He already feels wrecked and miserable, the last thing he needs is his teenage school bully intent on making him feel worse. He tries to push past Billy, but Billy’s body is unaccountably in the way.

“I guess we’re both stuck here then.” Billy’s voice seems both close and far away at the same time. He seems to be whispering. Steve closes his eyes against the rising nausea, to try and remove some of the continuous stimulation that seems to be assaulting the rest of his senses. The feel of breath, close and hot against the side of his face, the sound of Billy’s stuttering breathing, the tang-taste of cologne in the air, the smell of burning…

There’s a yelp from Billy as cigarette ash catches against cheap nylon cloth. Steve staggers backwards, relieved that the burning smell doesn’t seem to be coming from him. He finds a convenient bin in the corner, and is heartily sick in it while Billy stamps and pats and by the sound of it  _ shouts _ the fire out. 

By the time Steve recovers enough to want to stand upright, Billy is gone.


	2. Attempt the Second

The new mall annoys Steve, because two years ago it would have been wildly exciting. He could’ve strutted around with Tommy and Carol, sneering at how dumb everything was, and then bought new clothes and eaten at the food court and generally enjoyed himself. Instead, he’s trudging around it with a badly cobbled together resume containing his name, his fairly dire final grades, and a woefully short section on previous employment. 

“You were a babysitter?” Asks the girl at the sportswear shop, looking down her nose at him.

Steve leans against the counter and flips his hair back, “Hell yeah. I’m great with kids! And … sportswear. Clothes. For sport. I used to play basketball.”

She raises her eyebrows, unimpressed, “Yeah, you and every other teenager who comes in here looking to get hired.”

What is he meant to do if she can’t even appreciate the Harrington Hair? Clearly there’s going to be no luck here. He turns around and almost falls over as he stumbles into Billy Hargrove with a pair of red swimming shorts and a scowl. 

“Hey.” Steve mumbles. “You - uh … you good?”

Billy ignores him, brandishing the shorts at the girl on the counter, “You got any of these a size bigger? This one wouldn’t fit my sister! You’re meant to sell the fucking uniform, how do you not have it?”

She smirks at him, giving a wide-eyed shrug, “I don’t know. Hey … maybe our newest employee can help you! He knows all about clothes for sport.”

Billy frowns, wheeling on Steve who takes a hasty step back. “What? You work here?”

“No.” Steve glares at the girl as she turns away to help other, presumably less terrifying customers, “I’m just looking for something. You know, summer job.”

“ _ You _ need a summer job?” Billy snatches a copy of Steve’s resume and looks at it, lips splitting up into a smirk. “Oh wow, babysitting? Really? They still let you within 2 feet of a kid?”

“You know…” Steve snaps, reaching up to grab the paper back, “This has been nice. Talking to you like this. With you not being unconscious or on fire or anything.”

He can  _ see _ Billy’s fist curling back, but Steve can also see that Billy is very much aware that he’s in the middle of a shop. Possibly Billy thinks the same because he grabs Steve by his upper arm and yanks him out. “Here … come here.” 

They end up in the public toilet, crammed inside a cubical while Steve has a minor panic attack, “Um … what exactly are we-”

“Shut up.” Billy’s eyes flicker quickly over Steve’s face and neck, which is only moderately terrifying, “Did your dad throw you out?”

“What! No…”

“Has he stopped feeding you or some shit?”

“What the fuck - why are we in here?”

Billy’s hands land on his shoulders, holding him in place. “Why are you looking for a job, Harrington? Why, specifically, are you looking for a job here in a shitty mall instead of pissing around in Daddy’s office being pretty at people?”

It seems to be Billy’s mission in life to make Steve feel shitty, but this is something of a new low. Standing in a puddle of water in a cramped public toilet with a guy he hates, being forced to confront all of his life’s failings all at once. “Because I fucked up, okay? My grades are fucked, my social life is fucked, the rest of my life is fucked. Is that what you want to hear? Do you want me to pretend it was because of you? The big, bold, keg-king Billy Hargrove, who took my confidence? Because it fucking wasn’t, okay? It was nothing to do with you. You just got in the way, all the damn time.”

He has to stop there for a breath, because actually crying in front of Billy Hargrove is a further low he's not ready to reach. Billy is uncharacteristically quiet.

“Can’t you just leave me alone?” Steve whispers, “Don’t you have your own shit to fuck up? We’re not in school anymore, there’s no goddam reason for you to be anywhere near me.”

“You can’t think of a reason?” Billy murmurs, somewhere close to his ear.

Steve’s eyebrows crease into a frown, “What reason would there be?”

The hands are off his shoulders. Billy takes a step back. His eyes are calculating, although what he’s trying to work out, Steve can’t say. There’s a moment of silence and then suddenly, all in a rush, Billy Hargrove steps forward and roughly palms at his jeans over the crotch.  The touch sends a shock right through him. It’s sudden, mad, and deeply unpleasant. Before he can say anything, maybe voice some of the unspeakable horror he’s feeling or perhaps just yell for help, Billy’s lips are back at his ear.

“Get back to me if you think of a reason, pretty boy.”

Suddenly, finding a job seems like the  _ least _ of his problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's like watching two birds with wildly different mating dances locked in mutual confusion.


	3. Third Time Lucky

Steve tries to avoid Billy after that. He doesn’t want a repeat performance, or for Billy to start moving further with whatever  _ thing _ he seems to have decided is between them. But while he can avoid Billy, it’s harder to avoid Max, and Max tends to come with her own driver. One loud, annoying, Californian driver. It’s also hard to ignore the fact that an unwanted grope in the bathroom was the first time anyone had touched his cock for almost a year. The electric shock of it is still under his skin, crawling through his veins every time he touches himself. It comes with heat, with a gasp, with the phantom smell of douchebag cologne. 

He doesn’t want Billy to corner him in a public bathroom again, but he thinks he wouldn’t mind another grope.

It’s almost depressing how much of a boost getting the Scoops Ahoy job gives him. Sure it’s a dead-end job in a dead-end mall but it still represents something he personally has achieved. He leaves the acceptance letter around on various surfaces of the house, casually glancing at it a few times whenever his parents are in the same room. He knows they’ve seen it, because his mom has a heated debate with his dad about how she doesn’t want her friends to see him working there.

It almost feels like a victory. 

So armed with a new job, new confidence, and a desperate case of blue-balls, Steve goes looking for Billy Hargrove.  He manages to corner him at the arcade eventually, once the kids have run off with their quarters. Steve doesn’t know how to go about asking a guy for a grope, but he damn well knows how to get a lady into bed so he goes with that. Following Billy as he scoots into the alley behind the arcade for a smoke, Steve flicks a fancy lighter under his cigarette, leaning against the wall in a new-pressed shirt and flipping his hair back. “Hey, Hargrove.”

The technique, which Steve maintains is absolutely foolproof with women, appears not to work so well with Hargroves. Billy eyes him suspiciously and gives a snort, “Fuck off Harrington. I’m not in the mood.”

“And what exactly might it be that you’re not in the mood for?” Steve retorts. He can see a small flush working it’s way up the side of Billy’s neck and for some reason that thrills him. Possibly because this is the first time they’ve met where he’s actually felt in control.

Billy gives him a long, searching look. “For whatever the fuck you’re playing at.” He answers abruptly, but his face is still flushed. “What, do you want me to apologize again? Because I won't. It’s not my fault if you’re putting out mixed fucking signals Harrington.”

“Mixed signals - you almost put me into fucking  _ traction _ .” Steve snaps back, annoyed that his seduction technique is getting knocked back yet again. “I don’t want an apology, just … what you did in the toilet cubicle, you know, you said to get back to you if I wanted …”

Once again, Billy seems stumped for a reply. His eyes flicker up and down the deserted alleyway. “You seemed pretty damn sure at the time that you didn’t.” He mumbles back eventually. “How do I know you don’t have your creepy friend Byers back there with a camera?”

“Why would I…?” Steve hesitates. “He isn’t my friend, anyway. Do you want to, y’know, grope me again or what?”

That gets a small tugging smile out of Billy. Reaching forward his hand locks around Steve’s crotch and Steve gives a gasping shuddered breath. That’s the feeling, that’s the touch he’s been trying to replicate every night in his fantasies. 

“Is that what you want, Harrington?” Billy whispers low against his ear.

Steve nods, not trusting himself to speak. He lets his eyes flicker closed as Billy’s hand rubs and fondles at his junk, then snaps them open in horror as a warm hand gently clasps his own and brings it to where Billy hard cock is waiting beneath his jeans.

“Woah, wait. What the fuck?”

Billy’s eyes are challenging. “Well? Are you gonna help me out as well, or does this only go one way?”

For the first time, Steve is suddenly aware they’re alone in an alleyway. Now it’s his turn to take a quick glance to either side. “Uh. Yeah. Yeah, of course. Maybe, I mean, maybe we should get inside or -unh…” 

His voice is cut short as the entire bulk of Billy’s body presses him up against the wall. The top button of his jeans is flipped open and then Billy’s hand is _inside_ and that feels _even_ _fucking better_. Steve feels his legs trembling, eyes rolling up as Billy works at his cock. Billy’s knee nudges up between his legs and Steve ruts against it desperately. The sound of Billy’s breathing is hot and close, and Steve reaches out to grab at firm muscled shoulders, biting his lip hard as he _cums_ all over Billy’s hand, all over the alleyway. He slides bonelessly down the wall, mind in a daze, head in the clouds. Whatever Billy does to him now, he thinks muzzily, it will have been completely worth it.

He’s not sure how Billy cleans it up or what, but the next thing he knows a pair of strong hands are lifting him gently, depositing him back on his feet. A cigarette is popped between his lips and he reaches up to grab onto it, Billy laughing softly against his ear. 

“Damn, Harrington. That was a sight worth seeing.”

“D’you want me too…?” Steve mumbles, rather pleased when Billy shakes his head in reply.

“Pay me back next time, yeah?” Billy looks ridiculously pleased with himself, although Steve can’t see why. Giving a guy a quick handjob in an alleyway doesn’t seem like something to be proud of. “I guess the question is … how far do you want this to go?”

“I guess…” Steve tries to think. The idea of being friends with Billy is mildly terrifying. “I mean, this is just because we don’t have girls right? This is just about sex.”

“Yeah…” Billy mutters around his cigarette.

“So, I guess we could meet up every now and again. I got a job now, so maybe not all the time, but we’ll find ways and places. Not  _ regular _ … just …”

Billy rolls his eyes and flicks the side of Steve’s head, “I’m not asking about logistics, dipshit. I mean how far do you want to go? We just limiting this to handjobs or are we heading for a home run?”

It’s something Steve has not yet considered. He smokes a bit to give himself time to think. “Well you’re a guy, and I’m a guy, so I’m not sure we really  _ can _ …” his voice peters out at the condescending expression on Billy’s face.

“Course we can, Harrington. If you’re not gonna be a pussy about it.”

The lack of pussy seems, in Steve’s view, to be the main problem. He certainly isn’t about to back down now though. “Well then we can.”

Billy laughs and gives his softening cock a final fondle. “Then we will. Unless you get yourself a girlfriend, huh Harrington?”

“Oh yeah obviously.” Steve feels a sudden pang for Nancy and a small edge of guilt. He pushes it down. This is just using Billy Hargrove’s experience and not-unattractive body to get his rocks off. Steve wonders if Billy has had this kind of arrangement before, he certainly wouldn't be surprised.

“I work at the pool.” Billy says, flicking his cigarette away down the alley. “Come find me there in the changing rooms after work.”

“Only until I get a girlfriend.” Steve repeats, because somehow that seems an important thing to stress.

Billy gives a snort, “In that case, Harrington, I’ll be fucking you all summer.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very much a prequel to "Summer of Lust '85" which starts off with the two of them already in a sort of Not-friends With Benefits type relationship and explores how that relationship develops. Mostly through explicit smutty sex scenes and continuing Dumb Confusion. 
> 
> Written for AnastasiaZ who threw plot-bunnies at my muse until one of them stuck. You wanted a first kiss, I gave you a first grope ehehehehe XD


End file.
